A Guiled Appetite
by LadyHaddock
Summary: "What do dragons have to do with vegetables?" Zeph asked skeptically, Astrid's soulful eyes narrowing in typical Hiccup-fashion. Tuffnut grinned wickedly. "Everything."


**AN: Inspired by a Harry Potter story I read a few years ago, the title of which memory could not recall. Many thanks to that wonderful author, if by the very rare chance they happen to be reading this.**

* * *

**A Guiled Appetite**

"I asked Dad about cauliflower, you know," Zephyr waggled her fork accusingly, a scowl on her round, freckled face. "He said eating cauliflower _doesn't_ take your freckles away."

Her host grimaced, well aware of the grave he was digging for himself. _Alone_. His twin had abandoned him for her new other half on a conveniently timed trip to the Spring Isles. The Hoffersons were yet to return from said retreat. Valka, though taken ill, was losing hair over running the village. And Snotlout had dramatically followed suit – on the falling ill part (though of course, the latter's professed ailment happened to befall him just moments after Hiccup and Astrid announced their chiefs' trip). Spineless double-crossing scabs, the lot of them.

"You lied to us, Uncle Tuffnut," said little Nuffink, staring up at the senior blonde with wide, betrayed eyes. His bottom lip was even trembling – the kid was good, Tuff had to admit.

"How can we trust you enough to ever eat cauliflower again?"

He could swear Zeph had purposefully arranged their seating: the two Haddocks across the table from him and Chicken Junior III. Just like her parents during his teenage days at the Edge, when he and Ruff would be blamed for whatever the latest catastrophe. He felt as if he were being put on trial by clever little shrimps; clever little shrimps who were more than content with their roast mutton and pleased enough with their mashed potato, but who had – for times higher than the Thorston could count – refused to touch their other vegetables.

But it was day four now, and this time Tuff had a plan.

In part, it was his motherly tendencies that drove him. But moreover it was fear of the fierce, azure-eyed shieldmaiden that danced before his mind, an image rather difficult to shake with her two miniatures glaring at him from across the table. Tuff wanted to survive this babysitting ordeal. Preferably with all limbs intact.

The first evening had been a struggle in that department, and not only in the metaphorical sense. Sobs had escalated into wails rather quickly when Berk's chief and chieftess had brought the last of the luggage. Zephyr received a scolding for hiding Hiccup's prosthetic in attempt to have him miss the ship (which Tuff thought hilarious until the hour-long tantrum of woes and guilt began), before conceding to cling to her father like a freckled lodestone. Nuffink had clutched Astrid's leg for most of the afternoon, howling loud enough to wake pale old Granny Val from her nap ten huts away and emitting more tears than Tuff's entire generation combined. Along with so much snot and drool that his mother had to change her boots. Naturally, the four-year-old's dinner ended up a complementary pile of mush.

The second evening was no less difficult. Zeph had adopted a sulk-in-silence approach typical to that unnerving _"I'm not angry, just disappointed"_ punishment her father used to inflict on the Thorstons as teens, while Nuff resumed his weeping from some eternal well of un-warrior-like "enduring-warrior" (as Hiccup dubbed it) persistence he'd inherited from his mother, and their host decided very quickly that mention of Astrid Haddock was taboo. What he _couldn't_ decide was whether the lack of intelligible speech or the incessant wails that had surely reached Valhalla by now was worse. He was amazed Nuffink's tear ducts were still functional, spilling even further at the suggestion of healthy greens.

Despite the drastic lift in moods (by Thor, they _were_ Vikings after all) and return of sage converse (on a seven-year-old's part, not Tuff's, sadly), yesterday's dinner session had crossed the line. Tuffnut had tried the eating-spinach-makes-a-macho-Viking contention, pride had gotten the better of him, and the parley had quickly turned focus to the virility of its host. Just as Tuff was beginning to think he preferred her _quiet_, Zephyr snorted loudly and dissolved into a fit of giggles at the makeshift trail of masculinity beneath his chin, and after a few moments of blinking owlishly at his sister, Nuffink joined in, lunging some mashed potato at Chicken Junior III in his excitement.

"That's not a _beard_, Uncle Tuffnut!" Zeph had gasped between chuckles, clutching her stomach and pointing at his face in a tickling manner so akin to her mother (oh gods, why did her inner-Hiccup have to perish?), "You just tied your _hair _up in a double-braid!"

In his momentary stupor where Tuff tried to think of a plausible defense, Nuffink had reached across the table with a swiftness only Astrid's spawn could achieve, grabbed a fistful of braided locks in his chubby little fingers and tugged. An effeminate shriek from the former and convulsion of laughter from his sister later, the wide-eyed four-year-old lifted his fist, from which dangled a thick, twisted tangle of golden locks. Not knowing what to make of the situation, he looked to his wise mentor cackling hysterically in her seat and proceeded to copy her, throwing his hands in the air – an act that broke a heart string inside his older _should-be_ mentor as said man watched his beloved beard fly straight into the pot of gravy-soaked mushrooms abandoned on the kitchen bench.

Shamelessly gathering the remaining hair flapping at either side of his jaw and resisting the urge to grab Macey and send the little shrimps to Helheim, Tuffnut tied the ends together in an impromptu goatee and resolved to make them eat every damned vegetable on Berk if it was the last thing he'd do. It only took him a morning of spent stamina, the mourning of a dear golden love and his first wrinkle to finalize his trump card.

Stroking a disgruntled Chicken Junior III, the skew-goateed trickster hid his anticipatory smirk without effort. Stoicism was, after all, Viking Discipline 101, and with the amount of wallops he and Ruff had received over the years for their pranks, he had mastered a poker face even his twin couldn't crack; mini-Astrids they may be but the two little Haddocks didn't stand a chance.

"Now, Zephyr," he began in a serious uncle voice – a seriously difficult feat in itself for the number one prankster of the Hooligan tribe – "you _know_ cauliflower is healthy for you, and your parents insisted you eat it while you're here. Now I know I wasn't entirely honest about the freckle thing but–"

"You betrayed us," Zeph huffed, crossing her little arms over her chest. "How can you ever expect us to trust you again after such deplawwwribble behavior?"

Wordsmith he was, not even Tuff could recall his own vocabulary at seven containing a word like 'deplorable.' And the amount of times he'd been on the receiving end of _that_ one as a teenager… dear Thor, was the girl reciting Hiccup _again_, or was she scripting arguments now?

"Eggsactly," Nuffink said in an anonymously solemn tone, confirming the man's woeful suspicions to be true. "And vat's tree-zin!" Manipulative little scrub.

Chicken Junior III, who did not have almost three decades of training in stoicism, doubled over in a fit of clucks. _"Treason! Good one, Zeph!,"_ Tuff could practically hear her gobble, feathers rustling with laughter. So even she, his last ally, had turned on him…

"Zeph, Nuff," he said over the traitor's clucking, pulling out the tainted leather-bound book he'd looted from their attic before dawn. "Your father's shown you this before, hasn't he?"

The children nodded slowly, eyes widening with… oh, was that (albeit reluctant) _intrigue?_ "Did he show you _all_ of it?"

Zeph shook her head. "Mom and Dad haven't shown us _all _the dragons," she glanced at her brother, "They say there are some too scary for us at our current ages."

"Is that so? Well your parents obviously wanted you to be good children and eat your vegetables of your own accord. But since you've left me no other choice–"

"What do _dragons_ have to do with vegetables?" she asked skeptically, Astrid's soulful eyes narrowing in typical Hiccup-manner.

Inside, Tuff grinned wickedly. "Everything."

"Everyfing?" Nuffink repeated with hesitance while his sister's scowl deepened in an irritating switch to Astrid-fashion.

"Yup." Their host opened the Dragon Manual, watching their gazes grow less reluctant with each page flip. Coming to a satisfactory page, he twisted the book around for them to see. "Have you ever seen this dragon?"

"Duh," Zeph rolled her eyes as if he'd just asked the silliest question in the world, "that's a Gronckle. Uncle Fishlegs had one."

"Why yes, he did. Her name was Meatlug. Did your mom and dad tell you how fond of Meatlug he was?"

Nuffink curled up in his chair and cupped his mouth with both hands as he giggled. He almost looked cute – _almost. _Then Tuff remembered last night's incident. No, this was _Astrid's_ evil little spawn, just like her split image scowling next to him; the last thing either of them was was _cute_.

"Dad said vey were practically married!"

"They sure acted like it," the boy's seven-times senior agreed gravely, stroking his makeshift goatee for effect. "And they probably would have married if she didn't turn into a dragon." He sighed, "What a shame."

Nuff's hands dropped as his lips formed a shameless 'O,' emerald eyes widening like frog mouths. "Meatlug… Meatlug was… a _human?_ B-but… how?"

"She never ate her ginger."

Zephyr snorted. "That's ridiculous. People don't _turn_ into _dragons_."

"Here, take a closer look if you don't believe me." The elder blonde pushed the book further toward them, tracing his fingers over the old Gronckle sketch. "See the bulbous shape of the body? And the clubbed tail? The brown coat of scales and the bumpy bits across its arms and legs?" he paused for the image to sink in, "That's exactly what ginger looks like before you chop it up. You've seen your dad chop ginger, haven't you?"

The children nodded slowly. (It was a well-known fact to any Berkian who'd experienced food poisoning that it was best to leave the cooking to Haddock men, the chief himself being no exception.)

Tuffnut heaved another dramatic sigh. "Meatlug's parents warned her all throughout her childhood, and eventually even Fishlegs did, but poor Meatlug never listened. It broke Fishlegs' heart – he loved her as much as your father loves your mother. And she was a strong Viking too, a lot like your mom, even trained with a similar axe," – to his satisfaction the mini-shieldmaiden gave a visible shudder – "But her body couldn't handle the lack of all the ginger it craved so dearly, so one day it decided to grow some ginger of its own and she turned into a Gronckle. A terrible, terrible shame… and worst of all, she could never change back, doomed to eat rocks the rest of her days."

Nuffink almost fell off his chair. He opened his mouth only to shamelessly close it again.

His sister, on the other hand, kept the defiance charade. "Well… that's not so bad, being a Gronckle," she folded her arms again, "you can fly and bludgeon your enemies, and– and Gronckles are tough."

The kid-expert act was beginning to get old as far as Tuff was concerned. "True, but you can never return to Berk to see your family like Meatlug did; the Hidden World's the only option now. I wonder how your poor parents would feel about that, seeing how much they love you… and all because you refused to eat ginger." He gave the hair at his chin another thoughtful stroke, "I wonder how much nicer rocks taste."

And… success; Zephyr was ashen-faced, and looking ready to yak.

After a moment's silence which the Thorston smugly enjoyed, Nuff took the next bit of bait. "What about ovver dragons? And ovver vegetables?"

"Ah, yes!" Tuff clapped his hands together, making both Haddocks jump, "There are _plenty_ more. You know the Zippleback? Your Aunty Ruff and I had one of those."

The startled pair leaned forward as he flipped to page fifty-eight.

"Do you know why a Zippleback has two heads?"

His triumph turned to mirth as the two human heads before him shook quickly (not even Zeph could contain her horrified fascination this time).

"When you don't eat enough broccoli, you turn into a Zippleback. See the matching green scales and the floret-like spots on its back? – florets are those tasty end parts on the broccoli head. You see, broccoli heads grow together on the same stalk, and if your body doesn't get enough broccoli, it can sprout an extra head and then you become a Zippleback. And, if your body needs even _more_ broccoli – say you have a good chunk of muscle to feed like your Uncle Snotlout – you might even turn into a _Snaptrapper_."

"What's a Snaptrapper?" Nuff gasped.

"It's a cousin of the Zippleback that has four heads. It was hard enough for me having to share all my belongings with Ruff, I can only imagine how horrible it must have been for our Barf and Belch to share a body." Pretending to shudder himself, Tuffnut idly wiggled his fingers across the sketch. "Imagine being one of _four _heads on a single body."

"Urgh!" Zeph and Nuff blanched in unison. The latter gave a violent twitch, causing Chicken Junior III to lose a feather in fright.

"I can't imagine anything worse!" his sister shuddered.

"Oh, I don't know about that…" Tuff grinned evilly, no longer able to contain himself. "Now, your parents probably wouldn't want me showing you this one… but I think you kids are both brave and smart enough to handle it."

The children gulped, casting fearful glances at each other, and for a moment the older Viking hesitated, slowing his page-flipping. Perhaps he was going a little too far now – Loki-be-damned, Astrid was certainly going to kill him for this – but his beard… they'd taken his beautiful, _beautiful_ beard… and surely the positive results of his actions would keep said maternal wrath at bay?

"What… is _that?"_ the elder Haddock gasped, wearing an expression that revoked Tuff's doubts. "It's… it's… hideous…"

"_That,_ my dear Zephyr, is a Screaming Death; the result of not eating cauliflower."

This time there were no outbursts or remarks. The children just gaped in horror, faces paling to the extreme degree, jaws dangerously close to falling off. _Oh, dear Odin,_ Tuff thought. If only the others were here to see it!

Worth his early demise? Absolutely.

"I didn't want to scare you, so only mentioned the part about the freckles before… but becoming a Screaming Death is the worst of all. First your hair begins to fall out and your skin grows paler and paler while your eyes turn a glowing red. Once you've lost all your hair – even on your arms and legs – your nose falls off, your limbs shrink to nothing, and you start sprouting spikes all over your body. They say becoming a Screaming Death is so miserable that you spend the rest of your days in tormented solitude underground, with no one around to help you, no one to hear your suffering wails… You can't even enter the Hidden World; it's too peaceful a place, too unbearable for a creature in so much pain… Just ask your mom and dad, they've seen it."

As far as the children were concerned, their parents' words were _law_. There was not a shadow of doubt in that moment; sister and brother both completely, utterly, believed him. And both looked considerably nauseous.

(Yes, dear little Zephyr wasn't the only one who enjoyed scripting conversations; Tuff had had far too much fun coming up with that little spiel.)

The kids exchanged identical horrified glances, then, as one, turned to their cauliflower and started spooning it down their throats as if it were the rarest and most delicious luxury in the archipelago.

Chicken Junior III ceased her preening to gape at the sight, and Tuffnut, now in a very forgiving mood, gathered her to his lap and leaned back as he stroked her feathers, extremely satisfied with himself.

"Uncle Tuffnut," Zeph said suddenly, gulping down a mouthful of scrumptious health, "can you make us ginger and broccoli too? And all the other vegetables we need?"

He gave her a wide, kind smile. "Of course. I can cook you any vegetable you like."

"And can you show us ovver dragons too?" Nuffink's jaw was moving so fast he could have choked, "And teach us what happens when we don't eat our ovver vegetables?"

"Ohhhh, I don't know if I can show you _all_ of them, Nuff," the older Viking replied, feigning the most apologetic look he could muster. "Like Zeph said before, there are some scary dragons in here, they're not all friendly and playful like Toothless and Stormfly–"

"But you said we're _brave!_" the boy retorted.

"And smart enough to handle it! Or were you lying to us?"

"I don't doubt your smarts and bravery, my dear children, but your parents wouldn't be very happy if they found out I'd been showing you forbidden secrets in _The Dragon Book_ – especially your _mother._" The Thorston paused for a moment in emphasis of the last word. "You wouldn't want to lose your honest uncle now, would you?"

"No!" they exclaimed as one, and then Zeph took the remaining yak off the platter. "We won't say a word to Mom and Dad about the dragons, promise!"

"Yes, we swear it!"

"Please, Uncle Tuffnut?"

"Pleeeeease?"

Tuff leaned back in his chair and beamed. Ah, yes, the next few days were going to be bliss.

* * *

When Hiccup and Astrid arrived at the Nut residence to pick up their children, they were met with a sight straight out of Valhalla. Tuffnut was serving what appeared to be a _second_ portion of mushrooms and zucchini onto Zephyr's plate while their daughter was… _grinning?_… and Nuffink – their fussy, adamant little Nuffink – was shoveling _broad beans_ down his throat like there was no tomorrow.

"What the…?"

At the sound of their father's voice, Zeph's grin widened and Nuff dropped his spoon, both children leapt out of their chairs and thundered toward their parents.

"Mom! Dad!" the former exclaimed, crashing into Astrid's middle with a force that would have knocked Hiccup's prosthetic off balance. "You're back!"

Nuff's head barely made it to waist-level, so the startled chief had to crouch to catch his son. "You won't _believe_ how much fun we had wif Uncle Tuffnut!"

The man of topic waved and shot the couple an innocent grin as they swapped kids – Hiccup squatting to embrace their eager daughter while Astrid lifted their little boy into a cuddle-hold. Nuff couldn't contain his zeal as he threw his chubby little arms around her in a death grip, nuzzling his nose into her neck while rambling in a muffled jumble of indiscernible words; not quite the thunderstorm she'd expected, and certainly a drier one.

"That's great, honey," Astrid managed to breathe, trailing her fingers through her son's blonde locks with one hand and adjusting his weight with the other, "but you're going to have to have to slow down for me since I didn't catch a word you just said." Her husband seemed to be having the exact same issue with Zephyr.

Nuff giggled, pulling back to meet her with the eyes she'd fallen in love with daily for the last fourteen years. Her insides rendered to mush. Brushing a tangle of fringe out of his face, Astrid saw the blur of her golden-haired friend approaching and it was all she could do not to laugh.

"Gods, Tuff, what happened to your beard?"

In wake of his shock Hiccup wasn't so subtle, and catching himself too late, Zeph took encouragement. "You should have seen it, Mom!" she exclaimed, jumping off his knee to demonstrate said incident, "Nuff ripped it right off!"

"He _what?_"

"_Ze-eph! _You promised you wouldn't tell!"

Tuffnut turned a furious purple as the tiny arms around Astrid's neck tensed and the guilty culprit buried his face under her chin. She quickly diverted her eyes from the blonde… goatee?… in front of her – more to stop herself laughing than anything – to the blonde mop tickling her skin, and said in a stern voice, "Is this true, Nuff? Did you say sorry to Uncle Tuffnut?"

She breathed a mouthful of hair as her son shook his head, and began to scold him but their purple-faced host waved it off.

"Don't worry, he's already apologized in other ways," he chuckled mischievously, a twinkle in his eye that Astrid didn't know what to make of. (Though when it came to Tuffnut, she decided not knowing was best.) "Besides, kids will be kids, right? Remember what _we _were like?"

"All too well," Hiccup laughed, ruffling Zeph's hair as he stood. He lay a kiss to Nuff's head before doing the same to his wife and murmuring against her temple, "He's _your_ son after all."

Shifting the boy's weight to lean into him, Astrid smiled. She couldn't (and for all the world _wouldn't_) argue with that one.

"Hey, Uncle Tuffnut's face looks like an upside-down eggplant from here!"

"Zephyr!" Hiccup gasped, "that's _rude!"_

"Like that eggplant we had yesterday, right, Uncle Tuffnut?"

"_Zeph–!"_ Astrid began in a sterner voice but her husband cut her off with a more urgent question.

"Wait, you ate _eggplant?_"

"Yup!" their daughter grinned proudly. "And tonight, we're having mushrooms, zu-keenies and beans!"

"Broad beans," Tuffnut corrected with a wink.

"Yeah, broad beans!" Nuff looked up enthusiastically. "You can cook broad beans too, right, Dad?"

"Well… yeah…" Hiccup replied in a daze, catching the eye of his equally puzzled wife. "But, we thought–"

"And zu-keenies?" Zeph interjected, "And mushrooms too?"

"And pumpkin? And carrots?"

"And kale and broccoli and cauliflower?"

"Oh, and– and yams!"

Astrid gaped at the scene. How, in all Helheim, had _Tuffnut_ accomplished in one week what she and Hiccup could not in _years?_ She looked down at the little fingers tugging at her waist, meeting the eyes of her seven-year-old self.

"Don't worry, Mom. Uncle Tuffnut showed us how to cook vegetables, so we can teach you too."

Astrid just stared, too stunned to speak as Hiccup chuckled.

"Good idea, Zeph, I'm sure your mother would really appreciate the he-ow!"

"Of course I would, sweetie," she grinned down at her girl as he clutched his ribs, "but where did this sudden love for vegetables come from?"

"Oh, oh! Uncle Tuffnut showed us the book of dr–"

"_NUFFINK!"_

Neither parent missed the exchange of glances between their daughter and friend, and while Zeph shot her brother a threatening look, Tuffnut sheepishly shoved a hand behind his neck. "Y-yeah, that's right, I showed them my book of dr… uh… dr… dill! Of _dill!_… And, uh, other vegetables! Of _cooking_ vegetables! And w-what do you know, cooking makes eating fun too, doesn't it, kids?"

The younger Haddocks nodded, confirming Astrid's darkest suspicions. They'd left Zeph and Nuff in the care of _Tuffnut Thorston_ – of course _some_ sort of disaster would have occurred, even if it appeared a favorable one on the surface… Astrid knew full well her children's sudden love for greens wasn't from cooking them, or from a bribe for a lost fake-beard. She and Hiccup had taught them far better than that.

Oh yes, there was something very suspicious going on here with the cod excuse of a goatee and this whole veggie operation – Tuff didn't just cause catastrophes in the tangible sense, and once he put his mind to something havoc would naturally follow. Oh, she was going to enjoy figuring out his scheme tonight; her precious little Zeph may have been blessed with Hiccup's brains (and her cunning if she were allowed a little credit), but the squirming bundle of glee in her arms was another story. Her baby boy… give her three seconds and she'd crack him.

Catching her husband's evil grin of the like, Astrid turned to their golden-haired friend. "We can't thank you enough for taking such good care of our children, Tuff" she said sweetly, smiling as his brow furrowed at her un-Astrid-like tone.

"Yeah, I'm sure they really appreciate your _influence_ just as much as we do, don't you, kids?" Hiccup grinned, laying thick emphasis on the word 'influence,' to which Zeph and Nuff nodded enthusiastically.

"Being so patient and forgiving even when they destroyed your beard."

"Getting them to eat not just some, but _all_ of their veggies."

"What do you say, you two?"

"Thank you, Uncle Tuffnut!"

"Well," the blonde host chuckled nervously, "What can I say? It's the old Thorston way."

"Truly, thank you," Astrid's grin widened wickedly as she bounced Nuffink and hugged him closer to her chest for effect, "we can't _wait_ to hear _all _about how you did it." And at the innocent beam from the little munchkin in her arms, Tuff's grin slid right off his face.

"Might have to pop by to thank you properly," Hiccup added. "Well, we both have a tonne of chiefing to catch up on," he wrapped a loving arm around his wife and son, "but I'm sure Astrid won't mind stopping by when she's free. Will you, honey?"

"I'd love to have a proper catch up."

"Can Uncle Tuffnut come round for dinner next week?" Zephyr asked eagerly.

"Of course, sweetie," Astrid smiled warmly at her daughter. "If he's _feeling up to it_."

Tuff gulped. "Well, I'll… just… uh… go pack– I mean, grab the kids' backpacks… so I– _they!_… _theeeey_ can go home, and… uh…yup, I'll do just that! Be back in a moment!" And at that he was halfway down the hall.

Leaning into Hiccup as he drew her and Nuff closer and wrapped his free arm around Zeph, Astrid couldn't keep the beam off her face. Tuffnut may be a crafty trickster, but he had no clue just how great a favor he'd done them all, whatever the ghastly method she'd soon find out. She really would have to find some way to thank him properly.

"So, Zeph, Nuff," Hiccup's breath tickled her hair, "are you tired?"

"No!" came the usual unified response.

"Good. 'Cause your mother and I were thinking of stopping at Granny's hut on the way home to see how she's feeling."

"Ooooh yes!… But…" Zephyr looked up, brow furrowed with worry – the children, of course, had been kept away from Valka for fear of contagion. "How sick _is_ Granny, Dad? Is she gonna be okay?"

"Of course," Hiccup smiled down at her. "She was quite tired when Mom and I left, but otherwise just a bit pale with some red around the eyes."

"She'll be on the mend now," Astrid added reassuringly at Zeph's ashen expression. "Sven told us she's been losing hair stressing over the village while we were gone, so she's definitely up and about."

Her husband chuckled, giving their daughter a squeeze. "Trust us, princess, if that's the worst of it she'll be up and flying in no time."

Suddenly, Nuffink tensed in Astrid's arms, and Hiccup's smile faded at the unusual lack of response. "Zeph…?"

"What's wrong, honey?" Astrid asked, pulling back to brush a tangle of locks from her son's eyes. They were disturbed, frightened, and wide as saucers.

"Did… do you think… Granny ate enough cauliflower as a child?" Zephyr asked in a small voice, mirroring her brother's expression.

Hiccup and Astrid exchanged confused glances but before either could supply an answer, Zeph and Nuff did the same – except they came up with an answer of their own.

"Pale–"

"Red eyes–"

"Losing hair–"

Then, in unison, two words their parents had never taught them together – two words that brought the same horror to _their_ faces – "Screaming Death!"

Hiccup and Astrid stared at their children for a few moments, Zephyr's bizarre question echoing in their minds, before the former's eyes crinkled in realization and the latter's jaw dropped as she connected the final dots.

"Oh gods," Hiccup muttered in dismay, his grip on Zeph's shoulder stiffening as he caught the wide, blazing eyes of his wife.

Slowly, Astrid turned her gaze toward the hallway, wondering how she could to get free of Nuff's grip. Perhaps in his state of shock she could pass him to Hiccup; that should give her time enough grab the axe, and– d_amn!_ She'd left the weapon with Eret to take home ahead of them–

"Um… Ast?"

Brought from her fuming thoughts, Astrid followed her husband's gaze out the window, eyes landing on the figure of a lanky, golden-haired Viking far off in the distance, clutching a chicken to his chest as he scrambled over the hill for dear life.

Yes, that was the only fitting term for Tuffnut's predicament, that traitorsome, deceiving, gormless son of a half-troll – a _screaming death_ was exactly what she was going to give him.

* * *

**Thought I'd try the humor genre again after the dance fic - thanks to everyone who favorited/reviewed it!**

**I'm also thinking of doing a series of Haddock family one-shots, multiple genres, which I'll post as a multi-chapter story separate from this one. Would you be interested?**


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